


welcoming committee

by blacksatinpointeshoes



Category: The Bastards Crew, The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: (they get better), Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Later Pip time lads!!! they're doing ok tho, also cass being lovely, bastards-typical ragging on Jonny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacksatinpointeshoes/pseuds/blacksatinpointeshoes
Summary: Jonny d'Ville and Pip have a nice chat.





	welcoming committee

‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Pip asks without looking at Jonny, one hand dashing down equations while the other sharpens a new pencil. Is it rude for Jonny to hate the little bastard? An annoying kid that can’t be killed is arguably the worst kind. 

‘I’ll—’

_ ‘Sit down,’  _ Pip repeats, equally pleasant, but that City accent lilts with the flavour of death. This is the longest Jonny has spent on the Cassandra without being murdered, so he grits his teeth and takes a chair. 

Pip clears their throat. ‘Not that one.’ 

_ ‘What?’  _

‘That’s Ikarus’ chair,’ they say. They still haven’t looked at Jonny yet. ‘Take the one with the grey cushion.’ 

‘What,’ Jonny begins emphatically,  _ ‘the fuck—’ _

‘I’ll kill you,’ warns Pip, and yawns. Jonny glares at the back of their head and decides that he’ll stay right where he is, thank you very much. ‘And why haven’t you moved?’

Jonny’s eyes flick upward and come to rest on the tiny camera in the corner of the room.  _ Damn  _ that stupid kid and damn their stupid eye. Pip continues to do maths, humming, as Jonny seethes in place. 

This is still the longest he’s spent on the Cassandra without being murdered, so he moves chairs.  _ Not  _ because the little fucker says so. Just because — well. Sod off. Ashes will already make fun of him later, so Jonny doesn’t really want to hear it right now. 

Pip doesn’t say anything else as Jonny surveys the room, squinting and rather uncomfortable; the chair seems to be built for a child, not a human being. Pip just does maths, like an asshole. 

‘Well?’ Jonny demands finally, and he swears that he can see a smile touch Pip’s lips.  _ Kids.  _ ‘What the hell are you—’ he starts, then changes his mind, drawing his gun. ‘Fuck it.’

Jonny shoots twice and gets a knife to the cheek in return as Pip shakes off the impact of the bullets, slamming their hand down on — a stopwatch? A —  _ what?  _ ‘Why are you here, by the way?’ Pip asks, facing Jonny fully now. They gesture to the knife in his cheek. ‘I mean, take your time, of course.’ 

_ ‘Fuck you,’  _ says Jonny around the knife, with feeling. Pip watches it slice his stubborn tongue with mild intrigue, and raises a brow. 

‘Mm-hm.’ 

_ Kids.  _ It takes Jonny a minute to wrangle the knife out of his face, which spurts blood onto Pip’s carpet.  _ That’s going to stain,  _ Jonny thinks, and is inordinately pleased. ‘Why do you think I’m going to tell you?’ he asks, and wipes his mouth. 

Pip snags the knife from Jonny’s hand with thief’s fingers and he nearly pulls his gun again. ‘Because this is the longest you’ve been in the Cassandra without dying,’ they say, and, fuck, there is  _ definitely  _ a smile there. ‘And the longest you’ve gone on Cass without talking.’

Jonny blinks. Pauses. Blinks again. ‘You time that shit?’ he asks finally, and Pip laughs. (It’s not a giggle, it’s a laugh; there’s a difference.) 

‘She does,’ Pip says, patting the wall. 

_ No, I don’t,  _ says the ceiling in return, and Pip giggles. Jonny blinks. Pauses. Blinks again. 

‘Honestly, it was only a minute and sixteen seconds of silence,’ Pip says, picking up the stopwatch with a frown, ‘which is disappointing. I bet Bishop for three.’ Then they grin. ‘Lise said thirty seconds, though, so  _ they  _ owe me. Speaking of _ —’ _

Jonny grabs his gun as Pip makes for the door. ‘Gods, Jonny,’ they say without looking back, with something way too close to a disappointed sigh for comfort, ‘go fuck your mom, won’t you? It’s not like this wasn’t going to happen.’

Pip takes three shots to the back before they even reach the doorknob, at which point they snap their fingers and turn around. ‘Right! Why  _ are  _ you here, before we kill you?’ 

Alcohol would be really nice right now. Actually, anything would be nicer than being interrogated by a fourteen year old. Jonny waves an absent hand and continues glaring as Pip inspects their tee-shirt, now riddled with holes and blood. ‘Ivy’s got some… stuff,’ he says vaguely, still fuming. ‘For Phantomness.’

Face darkening, Pip opens the door. ‘Sure,’ they say, and for a moment protectiveness flickers like firelight across that round face. Then they poke their head into the hall and yell, ‘Lise! I got a minute! You can come in now!’ 

A voice that sounds too much like Ashes O’Reilly says,  _ ‘Damn,  _ nice,’ and whistles, and  _ —  _ yeah, that’s Ashes. Great. Jonny’s day is getting better and better.

Then Lise walks in, wearing a flowing white slip and armed to the teeth. They ruffle Pip’s hair (‘You owe me five pillows  _ and  _ the money; he nearly emptied his gun,’ they whisper into Lise’s shoulder) and grin. It’s toothy. Wide. Violent. Gorgeous, really, if anyone were to take the time to look. Pip closes the door.

‘Long time no see,’ says Jonny with a sigh, and if he’s taken the grey chair in the corner - well, it’s nobody’s business.

‘Likewise,’ says Lise, and stabs him.


End file.
